Wonder
by betterthanoxygen
Summary: A bookshop AU, in which a seventeen year old Gail is forced to spend her summer break working alongside a particularly sarcastic Holly Stewart.
1. Chapter 1

What annoyed Gail most was the fact that she wasn't actually annoyed at all.

Sure, she was still sort of pissed off at the idea of spending her entire summer break in what was probably the most obscure and unknown town in the whole of Canada. But even that was barely even a problem any more — the quaint, unusual atmosphere of the place meant that it'd been slowly growing on her ever since she'd arrived. Like a weird tumor or something.

No, the only thing actually bothering Gail was that she'd had no say in the matter. One minute she'd been making loose plans with her friends, the summer break rapidly approaching, and the next minute Elaine Peck had her sat down at the kitchen table, her infamous 'do not fuck with me' expression plastered on her face as she explained that her and Bill would be 'seeing old friends' and 'making important connections' over in Europe for the summer.

Gail had found it almost impossible to hold back a scoff. Honestly, how did her mother manage to take herself so seriously?

"It only makes sense that you stay with your aunt Carol while we're away, dear," Elaine had said, the term of endearment doing nothing to soften her words. "I'm not the type of mother that leaves her seventeen year old daughter alone for the summer, as I am sure you're aware."

"I suppose Steve gets to stay here alone," Gail had murmured in response, not bothering to properly argue back. She'd learnt over the years that she didn't stand a chance.

"Don't be like that, Gail," Elaine had admonished. "Steven is older than you. And more responsible. Besides, it'll be good for you to spend some time over there. Your aunt Carol's lifestyle is... different, and I think staying with her will be the perfect opportunity to show you what happens when you don't study hard enough."

Gail hadn't really understood at first — her mother spent most of her time pretending Carol Peck didn't exist, all for the sake of keeping up appearances, of course — so why was she being dumped with her? But after a few more questions, she'd soon gathered that it was because none of the other Pecks wanted to be responsible for her for such a long period of time. She didn't blame them.

And so here Gail was, two weeks later, half the contents of her suitcase already packed into the wardrobe of Carol's spare bedroom and the other half splayed across the floor.

"Dinner's ready," Carol called from downstairs. "You _have_ finished unpacking, haven't you?"

"Um," Gail looked at the mess in front of her and frowned. "Yeah, I... nearly done," she shouted back.

She quickly scooped up the rest of her clothes from the floor and hobbled over to her bed, dumping them under the covers. The clothes poked and jutted out from the duvet, forming a weird, lumpy-looking shape. Sort of like a dead body. She was almost impressed with her improvisation, though; tidiness was hardly something that came naturally to her.

"Shit. That'll have to do for now," Gail muttered to herself quietly.

She went downstairs to find Carol already dishing up the food.

"I don't even want to know how much you've actually managed to unpack, do I?" Carol asked, looking up at Gail with a hesitant smile. "I'd almost forgotten how spectacularly disorganized teenagers are."

"I'll finish the rest tonight," Gail assured, but her aunt just waved her off cheerfully.

"Don't worry about it. There's no rush."

All Gail could do was smile in response, taking a seat at the dinner table as her aunt brought their food over.

Honestly, Carol was barely even a Peck. She didn't have their trademark tough exterior, nor was she able to pull off the cold, judgmental stare. In fact the only clue that they were related to each other came from her short strawberry blonde hair, oh so similar to Elaine's.

But seriously, she didn't even have an interest in police work. As far as Gail knew, she collected books in her spare time, which wasn't the least Peck-like hobby she could think of, but it was certainly high up there.

Gail liked her, which was saying something; as a general rule, she didn't like anyone. But no, Carol's welcoming presence was impossible not to warm to. She liked the inviting, homey feel of her house, and the bold, vibrant colours that her aunt wore that matched her quirky personality.

The one thing Gail didn't like about staying with Carol, however, was her cat. It wasn't that Gail had anything against cats, per se, but this one had an irritating habit of pestering and prodding her (with its _head_) and meowing until she gave it attention. And then when she did, it would hiss and scratch her.

At present, the cat was curled up by her feet under the table and Gail was trying to resist the temptation to kick it. Lightly, of course.

Gerald, its name was. _Gerald. _Who the hell called their cat Gerald? Carol Peck, apparently.

"Now, I hope you don't mind," Carol began, swallowing a forkful of pasta, "but I've had a word with the owner of my local bookshop about you doing some work there over the summer, just part time of course, and the lady says she's more than happy to have you."

"Okay," Gail said slowly. She was surprised to find she didn't actually mind the thought of working over the summer. It's not like she had a clue what she'd be doing here anyway; she liked the town, sure, but Carol would be out all day and it was hardly bustling with life. Coincidentally, that happened to be the reason Gail liked the place so much. The distinct lack of people was more than appealing.

"God, I hope I wasn't too presumptuous for asking in advance," Carol said, mistaking Gail's silence as reluctance.

"No, no," Gail said quickly, fidgeting with fork, "It'll be good. Thank you."

Carol smiled. "We can always make up an excuse for you if it's _that_ terrible, can't we? But Ms Stewart is a lovely woman, and she has a girl your age that helps out there occasionally." She paused and then said, "She's probably the only person under fifty that you're going to find here, so you better make the most of it."

Gail hid her frown by shoveling a huge forkful of pasta into her mouth. There was something about being around girls her age that brought out her bitchy side. "Sounds good," she managed to say, despite her sudden apprehension.

* * *

But it wasn't good.

There was absolutely nothing _good_ about having to wake up at seven a.m the next morning, and there was definitely nothing _good _about opening her eyes to find that stupid cat lying across her neck, fast asleep.

Gail sighed loudly. How was it fair that Gerald the Fucking Cat could sleep in for as long as he pleased, whilst she slaved away at work? She flopped out of bed, the cat rolling off of her as she got up, but barely even opening its eyes.

Once dressed, she went downstairs to find Carol potting around in the kitchen. Today she was sporting a garishly bright rainbow-colored knitted jumper.

"Morning, darling," Carol greeted her, her tone as cheerful as usual. She pointed over to the steaming mug of coffee on the table. "That's for you."

"Oh thank _god_," Gail said, immediately picking up the coffee and sipping it appreciatively. Then she remembered her manners. "Oh, um, thank you," she said, giving her aunt a sheepish smile.

Carol smiled. "Not a problem, Gail."

She had another sip. "You know, this is really good coffee." She narrowed her eyes. "Like, really good."

"No need to sound so suspicious," replied her aunt, laughing. "Not every one is as inept in the kitchen as your mother."

* * *

The walk to the bookshop was a peaceful one. It was a mild morning, with nothing more than a pleasant, gentle breeze in their way as they strolled through the town. There were a few people milling about, smiling as they passed each other, but other than that it was enjoyably quiet.

They hadn't been walking for more than five minutes when Carol stopped outside a small, vintage looking place.

"Here we are," she said. She pointed to the sign above the bookshop which read 'A Novel Idea.' "Certainly got a ring to it, hasn't it?" she joked.

Gail frowned. "It looks..."

"Beautiful?" Carol supplied.

"No, I was going to say nerdy."

In all honesty, though, the bookshop did look nice. The outside was painted white, and although it didn't particularly stand out from any of the other old, quaint buildings and shops nearby, the window display was home to an inviting array of books which made it just a little bit more appealing than the others.

"Better go in before we make you late," her aunt said.

Gail reluctantly followed Carol into the bookshop, but her reluctance morphed into awe as soon as she stepped inside.

She'd never seen anything like it. All around her innumerable piles of books were stacked and stacked and stacked; it was almost as if the shop held no empty space. Mountains more books crept up the walls, precariously placed one on top of the other, looking as if they could topple over at any moment.

There was a strange, warm silence that lingered between the shelves, and she found it weirdly inviting.

She carried on looking around in awe until a voice broke her out of her reverie.

"So lovely to finally meet you, Gail," a tall woman with dark brown hair said, smiling broadly and extending her hand. Gail could only assume that this was Ms Stewart.

"You too," Gail responded politely. She shook her hand.

And so it went from there.

The small talk ended in a wave goodbye from her aunt, and before she knew it she was wearing an 'A Novel Idea' apron, which was only slightly embarrassing. Ms Stewart — "Please, just call me Sarah" — spent the first twenty minutes talking her through the basics: how to use the cash register, her working hours, where things were kept.

"I think I've covered just about everything," Ms Stewart said, once Gail had successfully managed to use the cash register. "Now, the mornings shifts are usually quiet, so how about you work at the till while I do some work out in the back? I'm sure that'll help you settle in."

Gail nodded awkwardly, trying not to throw any more dirty looks towards the offending cash register.

"Great. And if you get bored, you should be able to find a few books scattered around the shelves behind you. Those ones aren't actually on sale." She shook her head, wistful. "My daughter's always reading at least three at a time, so I'm sure you'll be able to find something you like."

And with that she disappeared behind the endless mounds of books into a small room at the back of the bookshop.

Silence followed. And Gail loved it.

For the first half an hour, there weren't any visitors. She was more than relieved — and anyway, who on earth went shopping for books at eight thirty in the morning? Apart from... nerds and old people.

Instead she sat peacefully at the counter, her eyes drifting around the shop. It was as if every time she looked up, she spotted something different. Never had Gail experienced a building with such presence before. The bookshop was bursting with a life of its own.

Directly in front of her, just above the entrance to the shop, was a wooden balcony. So far it was proving to be her favourite feature. The railings of the balcony were lined with sparking fairly lights, faintly illuminating everything they touched. A collection of book covers were threaded together with string, and hanged from the railings too.

But it was the bookshelf on the balcony itself that really caught her attention; the books were arranged in colour order, blue spines dissolving into greens, yellows, reds — all the way across the spectrum, forming a whimsical rainbow.

She carried on surveying the room until someone entered the shop.

Gail's head shot down abruptly, a surge of awkwardness immediately overcoming her. She usually dealt with social encounters using snark and sarcasm, but that hardly appropriate while she was working for someone else. The thought left her feeling naked.

She prayed for it to be an old person. Old people were good, easy. They only talked about knitting and baking as far as she was aware.

But there was no such luck today. She looked up from the desk to find a brunette girl looking at her hesitantly.

Gail frowned. "You're not an old person," she blurted out.

The girl tilted her head. "Not that I'm aware, no," she said slowly, adjusting her glasses.

A tense silence followed until Gail snapped, "Are you going to just stand there, or are you actually going to buy a book?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Do you talk to all your customers like this?"

"No. Only to nerds like you."

At this the girl actually chuckled. "And what makes you think I'm a nerd?" she asked, stepping forward until she was standing across from Gail at the counter.

"Your backpack, your glasses, your lunchbox," Gail listed, "and the fact that you're in a bookshop before 10 a.m."

"Ah, you know that this isn't actually my lunchbox, right?"

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Good for you."

The girl sighed, exasperated. "Why would I own a Spongebob Squarepants lunchbox?"

Gail shrugged.

"Fine, so I'm a nerd," the girl conceded, playing along. "And you are...?"

"Gail."

"Nice to meet you, Gail. I'm Holly." Holly smiled, extending out her hand with mock courtesy. Gail just stared at her hand, eyes narrowed, until Holly got the message. "You're going to regret that."

"I'm sure I will," Gail retorted sarcastically.

It was in that moment that Ms Stewart came back from the backroom of the bookshop.

"Ah," she said to Gail, "I see you've met my daughter."

"Seems like it."

"You're being nice to her, I hope, Holly?"

"Of course," Holly replied. "I was just asking her about her favourite book, actually."

Gail looked at Holly, confused, but Ms Stewart seemed oblivious to the look her daughter was being thrown. "And what is it, Gail?"

She was about to open her mouth, but Holly cut in.

"Twilight," was her grim response. "Gail's favourite book is Twilight."

Ms Stewart's expression was one of both anguish and despair. "Oh."

Gail was actually going to kill Holly the moment her mum left them alone, she quickly decided. For the time being, though, she just shrugged in response to Ms Stewart's silence.

"She's Team Edward," Holly supplied, looking directly at Gail with a glint in her eyes.

"That's..." Ms Stewart trailed off again. "Each to their own, I suppose," she settled for. Gail could feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Well, seeing as you two have already been introduced, why don't you show her around the shop properly, Holly? While it's still quiet."

"Sure," Holly said.

"Perhaps you could introduce her to some books other than Twilight," she suggested. Holly nodded and Gail grimaced. "Well, I'll leave you two girls to it. See you both later."

And with that, she went back to work in the store room at the back of the bookshop.

Gail glared at her, barely able to hide her disgust. "_Twilight_, Holly? Really? Of all the books in the world, you tell your mother, owner of a _bookshop, _that I enjoy reading about vampires that glitter in the sun?"

Holly smirked, unapologetic. "I did warn you that you'd regret not shaking my hand."


	2. Chapter 2

And so that's how Gail Peck spent her first morning at A Novel Idea — being taken on a tour by Ms Stewart's daughter. Holly had been quick to deposit her belongings behind the front desk before throwing the blonde an expectant look, ushering her to follow behind. And Gail, after sending her back a scowl for good measure, had reluctantly obliged.

A few minutes had passed since then and the size of the bookshop meant she'd almost seen everything.

"So, back here is the children's section," Holly continued, gesturing to a small passageway of bookshelves with a colourful sofa resting against the back wall, pillows scattered across the floor beside it.

Gail looked around, skeptical. The children's section looked more like a library than a bookshop. "Kids actually sit there and read?"

"No, it's purely for aesthetic purposes."

"Really?"

Holly rolled her eyes. "Of course not."

"You could have just said that before," Gail grumbled.

"And you could have just shook my hand, but hey."

"Wow, you're _still_ not over that?"

"In my defense, it happened ten minutes ago."

"Exactly. You're living in the past, Holly. It's unhealthy. Move on."

Holly just smiled and then led them to the next section of the bookshop. "As you can see, the majority of the shelves are ordered by genre — might not seem important now, but you're going to get some strange requests, so you'll be thankful for it later. Not all of the shelves are this organised, so..." She nodded towards the stacks and stacks of books that Gail had been drawn to when she'd first walked in.

"When you say strange requests," Gail began, "you don't mean erotica, do you? Because I'm not helping old people to get off. Even if I'm getting paid."

Holly looked more than amused. "What is it with you and the elderly?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Gail, is there something you're not telling me?" Holly asked, an eyebrow quirked suggestively.

Gail ignored her. "Just answer my question."

"Are you familiar with the word please? It's an adverb that people use in addition to a demand in order to sound polite. You should try it some time."

"Do you want me to give you some alone time so you can finish reciting the dictionary?" Gail sneered.

"Thanks for the offer," Holly replied. "But actually, I'm enjoying this way too much. And to answer your question: no, we don't sell erotica."

Gail let out a sigh of relief. "Thank _god _for that."

Holly's lips curved slightly. She walked over to another cluster of shelves, with Gail following not too far behind.

"And here we have the used section, which is my favourite," she said, waving over to a collection of vintage-looking books. She picked out a particularly worn out one and ran her fingers over the cover fondly. "I love old books. They have so much character. They get kind of dusty, though. And a bit smelly, don't you think?"

"Oh." Gail smiled at her sweetly. "I thought that was just you."

Holly bit back her laugh, instead continuing, "I don't know why, but I've always thought there was something magical about them, even as a little kid. I know you're supposed to support new and upcoming authors, and I do, but," she drifted off for a moment and then finished, "I don't think the bookshop would quite be the same without them."

"Why are you telling me this?" Gail asked, staring at her blankly.

"Small talk is a pretty basic form of social interaction. Just thought I'd try it out on you," Holly said, shrugging. "Anyway, I think that's about it for your tour." Gail tried not to look too disappointed. "I know haven't showed you everything, but I think the best part about being here is discovering all the hidden corners. So, enjoy."

Gail narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure you're not just trying to sabotage me on my first day?"

"Hardly." Holly adjusted her glasses and looked at Gail with a tiny smile. "This shop is sort of small, if you hadn't noticed. I'd be impressed if you managed to get lost in here."

"Don't underestimate me," Gail warned.

"Well, I don't doubt that you'll be keeping me updated either way. And actually, on that note, I've got to go." Before Gail could reply she turned around, already walking towards the door. "Not that this wasn't fun," she called back sarcastically.

"Hey, you didn't even recommend me a book!" Gail shouted, but Holly had already left.

* * *

Luckily for Gail, Holly didn't have a shift at the bookshop until the afternoon, which happened to be when her shift ended for the day. On the flip side, however, she soon realised that people did in fact visit the shop. A lot of people. And most of them were considerably less old than the people she'd previously come across around town.

Emphasis on _most_ of them being considerably less old, because at two p.m that afternoon, she found out exactly what Holly had meant by people having strange requests. She had just finished helping a customer when the door of the bookshop opened. In came an old man, slowly inching himself forward until he finally managed to hobble over to the desk at which Gail was sat.

"Good morning," he greeted her. "I'm looking for Dave."

"Sorry," Gail replied helplessly. "There's no Dave here today..."

"But he lives here, doesn't he?"

"No one lives here." Gail threw him a weird look. "This is a bookshop."

"Are you sure?" the old man pressed.

"Uh, yeah." Gail nodded her head towards the stacks of books around her for emphasis.

He didn't bother following her gaze. "I'll try again tomorrow," he decided. "I apologise for wasting your time."

Gail shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I mean, no offense but you're kind of old, so you've sort of earned the right to get away with it."

She wasn't even sure if the old man heard her, though, because he was already shuffling out of the shop, no doubt on the hunt for Mysterious Dave.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by mercifully fast. Most of it was spent in the store room with Ms Stewart, sorting through book orders and deliveries. After assuring Holly's mother that she wasn't actually a fan of Twilight, she found that the woman made pleasant company.

"Thank you for helping out here today," Ms Stewart said at the end of Gail's shift. "It's always good to have an extra pair of hands."

"I've enjoyed myself," she said. And it was true. She loved the bookshop, with its comfy, homey feel and its welcoming atmosphere. She almost wanted to live there.

"I'm happy to here it, Gail," Ms Stewart replied with a warm smile. "There's no need for you to come in tomorrow though — I don't like the idea of stealing you away for the whole of your vacation. Rest is well deserved at your age, especially when you've been doing so much studying. That's what I tell Holly, anyway."

"Yeah, it's sort of true," Gail agreed, thinking back to the ridiculous workload she'd had only last month. She picked up her bag from the shelf beside the cash register, briefly noting that Holly's things were still there. "Thank you," she added as she walked to the exit.

"So, how about you come back on Wednesday for the afternoon shift?" Ms Stewart suggested, holding open the shop door for Gail. "It's busier then, but Holly'll be there to help you out."

Gail just nodded in return, knowing that there was no verbal response she could give to Holly's mother that wasn't dripping in sarcasm.

* * *

Settling in to life with Carol Peck wasn't hard at all, Gail soon discovered. Her weekend had mostly been spent in her pajamas, eating junk food and watching reruns of Friends — all things she prided herself in being particularly good at. Yeah, this might not have been the summer she'd planned but she was enjoying it nonetheless.

But there was still one problem. One huge, monumental problem.

"I'm not going back in there," she said, frowning stubbornly.

"Well, I don't think he's actually out to get you, Gail," Carol reasoned, resting her mug of hot chocolate on the garden bench.

Gail yanked a handful of grass from beneath her. "That's what he _wants_ you to think."

"You know what they say about people who hate cats, don't you?"

"Nope."

"They come back as mice in their next life."

"Well that's dumb," Gail said. "Plus, I'll be reincarnated into something way cooler. Like a dragon."

"God, no," Carol replied, smiling, "that'll be Elaine, dear, not you. I don't think you're quite as fiery as you like people to believe."

"I'm going to ignore that pun," Gail muttered, reaching for her own hot chocolate.

She knew her bluntness didn't work on Carol. And besides, she secretly liked her aunt's joking quips about her mother. It made a nice change from Elaine's genuinely biting — and not to mention unnecessary — commentary on just about everything.

"So," Carol said, "just how long are you going to hide out in my garden for?"

"Forever. Or until your cat dies." She shrugged and had a sip of her hot chocolate. "I don't mind which."

"I don't mind that you don't mind, but I certainly do."

"He's out to get me!"

"Only because you sat on him. It gave him a fright, Gail."

"How was I supposed to know he was lying under my duvet?" Gail grumbled, only slightly guilty that she'd almost squashed Gerald to death. "He scratched me. And it hurt. And he was obviously planning it."

"I think I'll just have to let you two work things out on your own," Carol said with an amused sigh. She stood up and walked over to the back door. "I'll leave you here until you're ready."

"Fine."

Gail lay back onto the grass, staring up at the near-cloudless sky, then grabbed another fistful of grass and sprinkled it onto the ground beside her. She didn't move from her spot until she caught the tempting smell of dinner floating through the air from the kitchen an hour or so later. _Gerald would be winning if I starved_, she thought to herself, before relenting and getting up to go inside.

* * *

Gail wasn't too sure how she ended up standing outside A Novel Idea on Monday afternoon — well, that was only partly true. After a morning of yet more mindless TV and junk food, she'd restlessly decided that it was about time to do some sight-seeing around town. Her only problem was that she had no idea what there was to see, and with her aunt out at work, her choices were limited.

She walked into the bookshop to find Holly sitting at the cash register, intently focused on the book she was reading, her brow furrowed and her tongue poking out in concentration.

There were a few customers scanning the shelves, but other than that it was as peaceful as usual, only today the sound of Mozart was drifting through the air.

"Nice taste in music, Lunchbox," Gail greeted her.

Holly looked up from her book, her confused expression quickly being replaced with a lopsided grin. "Yeah, because I own this radio station and decide what gets played," she retorted sarcastically, putting her book down. She rested her chin in her hands. "What brings you here, anyway?"

Gail let out a long, drawn out sigh. "I'm bored. I'm really, really bored."

"Ah," Holly's smile widened, smug and playful, "and you thought coming here to see me would brighten your day."

"What? No! You wish," Gail scoffed. She walked over to the counter and drummed her hands against the wood. "I'm here for advice. Some help, if you will."

"Okay." Holly shot her a curious look. "I assume you're going to elaborate."

"Yes." Gail rolled her eyes, then continued, "What is there to do in this town... for fun?"

"Well," Holly began slowly, "this isn't exactly the most visitor-friendly place, I have to admit." She gave Gail an apologetic smile. "You've sort of got to amuse yourself."

Gail smirked. "Amuse yourself?" she repeated. "Does that mean what I think it does, Holly?"

"Get your head out the gutter, Gail," Holly replied, her cheeks colouring. "Do you really think I'm advocating that you masturbate to pass the time?"

Now it was Gail's turn to blush. "All right, nerd. I get your point," she murmured, studiously avoiding eye contact.

"There's some pretty roads to walk down and we have a beautiful church, too. If architecture is your thing."

"Sorry, what?"

"You asked what there is to do around here, didn't you?" Holly said, knowing she'd caught Gail out. "I'm afraid that's the best suggestion I've got."

Gail definitely wasn't satisfied with that answer. She let out another long, laboured sigh.

"Holly, you're wearing glasses."

"Yes..." Holly nodded slowly, confused at the abrupt subject change. "That's correct."

Gail threw her hands up in frustration. "So aren't you supposed to be, I don't know, knowledgeable or something? Is a church really the best that you've got? Are you even _trying?_"

"Well... not just any old church, a beautiful one," was Holly's unhelpful response.

Gail sighed. "Who the hell goes to a church alone anyway? It's weird and creepy." She looked away. And then she shuffled her feet. And then she cleared her throat.

Holly seemed to get the message after a moment. "Gail?" she asked, hesitant.

"Yes?"

"Would you like _me_ to show you around town?"

Gail shrugged, momentarily thrown. Was that really what she'd been hinting at? She looked up at Holly, who was watching patiently her as she waited for a response.

"Maybe," she said. And then before she could even help it, she was smiling nervously. "Yeah, okay," she decided.

"Great," Holly replied. Her smile was the polar opposite of Gail's — confident and bright and casual. "I knew you had a secret appreciation for my skills as a tour guide."

"Has anyone ever told you how weird you are?"

Instead of responding, Holly jumped up from behind the cash register and held out her hand.

"You're not trying to get me to shake it again, are you?" Gail blurted out, looking at Holly's proffered hand with a disbelieving expression.

"No," Holly chucked, "I was just going to ask for you to hand over your phone. I'm free tomorrow afternoon, if you're up for meeting then, but I don't know what time I'll be home yet. This way I can text you my address when I know what time I'll be finished and we can meet there."

"Oh, right." Gail felt stupid for jumping to conclusions. "That... makes sense."

She fumbled in her pocket before awkwardly thrusting her phone into Holly's hands. Once Holly had finished dialing in her number, she passed it back.

"Thanks," Gail murmured.

Holly smirked. "No problem."

It was in that moment that the door of the bookshop opened, the old man Gail served the other day shuffling in.

"And that's my cue to leave," Gail said.

Holly tilted her head, confused, but Gail left before she could say another word.

* * *

**Author's note: **Okay, so just a couple of things. Firstly, Shelley421 pointed out that Elaine married into the Peck name and so if Carol's her sister, she isn't a Peck. Haha, sorry about that. I think you guys are just going to have to ignore that enormous plot hole because I've written this a few chapters in advance and changing things now would be... not fun. But thank you for pointing it out. Secondly, the 'old man on the search for Dave' dialogue is largely, largely inspired (or in other words taken) from a book called _Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops_ by Jen Campbell. And lastly, thank you _so_ much to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/followed. It's so motivating to read such lovely reviews and I really appreciate it :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hands shoved deep into her pockets and eyes cast down firmly, Gail stood outside Holly's house moments after ringing the doorbell with only two things on her mind. Thought number one: Holly's house was nice. Thought number two: She felt nervous. Like, really nervous.

This first thought, she reasoned, was a fairly straight-forward one. Holly's house looked like something out of a fairy tale. One of those airy, sappy Disney movies that she was forced to sit through and watch every so often with Dov's tiny little creature, also known as Chloe Price.

And 'house' didn't feel like the right word to describe where Holly lived, either. The word felt too plain and conventional. It looked like more of a fictitious cottage — or at least it did from the outside — with its tangled array of wildflowers in the front garden and its reaching vines climbing up the brickwork. It was similar to the other houses in town, yes, but there was something different about it that Gail couldn't quite pin down.

She still still wasn't sure if she was expected to go inside, but she hoped not. That would make it worse. Make her more nervous, if it were possible. Which led her to thought number two.

This second thought, she decided, was a result of her lack of social skills. Gail Peck just wasn't good at making friends. It was really that simple. Sure, there was Traci. Even Chris and Dov and Nick. But they were all — with the exception of Traci — product of a simple mistake, that being Andy McNally.

See, Gail had never set out to become friends with McNally, nor did she ever really try. But their friendship had been formulated with an age old equation, which went something like this:

Their parents' close friendship — before things went... wrong — added to a dreadful downpour of Peck dinner parties, equaled Gail having to spend the best part of her childhood around the girl.

Unfair, but so very, very real.

And the thing was, being friends with her meant Gail had never had to try to make her own. Everything had fallen into place from an early age with limited effort on her part, simply from being dragged around everywhere with Andy. And she liked her friends — had grown to almost, occasionally, sort of _love_ them, in fact. But she had stuck to them, and them only, ever since. Chris, with his big dopey smile and even bigger heart. Dov, king of the nerds. Traci, level-headed best friend. So, truthfully — and perhaps a little stupidly — Gail had never considered the fact that one day a time would come when it'd be necessary to meet new people.

Now, for the first time, it was an actual issue.

Because here she was, waiting at the doorstep of a girl she barely knew, shuffling her feet and feeling ridiculously uncomfortable. The idea of walking away seemed more than satisfying, but the door opened before she had a chance to plan her escape.

Holly smiled brightly as she stepped outside. "Hey," she greeted cheerfully, shutting the door behind her.

"Hi," Gail responded, attempting to return the smile. "You look... nice."

And it was almost true. Holly looked the same as usual, mostly. But today her hair wasn't in its usual ponytail, instead falling onto her shoulders in gentle waves. And yeah, it looked nice like that. Sort of.

"Um, thank you?" Holly replied, her head tilted ever so slightly, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I don't think anyone has ever been so hesitant to compliment me before. Compliments aren't obligatory, you know. It's not like we're on a date."

"Yeah, well," Gail mumbled, shuffling awkwardly on her feet. God, this was terrible already. She glanced over to Holly. "What are you waiting for?" she snapped. "Hurry up and take me to the church, nerd."

Holly laughed. "Be careful, Gail. That was almost a marriage proposal."

"Whatever," Gail sighed in frustration, already walking away. "Let's just get this thing over with."

"Um, Gail?" Holly called from behind her, still smiling. "Wrong way."

She swiveled around and shot Holly a dirty look. "Yeah, I knew that," she said. "I was simply keeping you on your toes, Holly. Making sure you actually know as much about this place as you've said."

"Yeah, that's definitely what that was," Holly teased, chucking as she led them in the right direction.

And because Gail knew Holly wasn't looking, she allowed herself to smile. Just for a second.

* * *

"I guess now is a good time to tell you I'm not actually religious," Holly joked, gazing up at the church that stood proudly in front of them. She glanced over at Gail, who was giving her a questioning look, before continuing, "I don't know, I guess my parents just never forced anything on me. They let me figure things out on my own, you know? And once I learnt how to read, I just kind of gravitated towards those books about the human body... remember those ones with all the weird facts and diagrams?" Gail nodded slightly and Holly smiled. "Before I knew it I was completely fascinated by science. Mostly evolution back then, though."

Gail kept her eyes fixed on the church, with all its intricate and meticulous details contrasting sharply with brash blue sky behind it. This was the second time Holly had willingly shared something personal, Gail thought to herself. Or at least, things she considered to be personal. And honestly? She wasn't sure if she liked it. It put a weight on her shoulders. Made her feel as if she was now obliged to share something back.

What exactly was it that she was supposed to say? That she'd been brought up in a religious family? That she'd never really questioned it until last year when Jerry died? That since then she hadn't been able to get her head around the fact that someone so young — so sweet and passionate and caring — could possibly deserve something so horrible?

Was she supposed to tell Holly that now she wasn't so sure?

But she knew she was over thinking it. She glanced over at Holly, who was staring off into the distance, clearly not expecting anything in return, as calm and collected as usual.

"So, do you always hang outside churches, Holly?" she asked.

Holly looked over at her. She seemed to consider the question for a moment before replying, "It's not something I make a habit out of, no."

"Hmm." Gail thought that over for a while, content in the silence between them. "I like it here," she decided. "And I like the cemetery, too."

"Graveyard."

"What?"

"It's a graveyard," Holly corrected, wearing an apologetic smile that clearly said she just couldn't help herself.

Gail raised an eyebrow. "Aren't they the same thing?"

"Nope," Holly said, smiling properly now. "People use the words graveyard and cemetery interchangeably, but there's still some basic differences." She gestured vaguely around them and said, "That's a graveyard because it's connected to this church."

"How do you even _know_ that?" Gail wasn't sure if she was impressed or weirded out. "Please don't tell me it's because you actually recite the dictionary?"

At that Holly laughed, light and careless, and Gail found herself smiling back at her.

"Not quite," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She walked over to a bench and sat down. "Try again."

Gail took a seat next to her. "Okay, how about this. You have a creepy fascination with dead bodies?"

"Well," Holly shrugged, "I guess that's one way of putting it."

"Please don't tell me you're a necrophiliac. I was actually starting to like you."

"Definitely not a necrophiliac," she reassured her with a chuckle. "And anyway, I have a 'creepy fascination' with living bodies too, if that's what we're going to call it. I'm interested in medical science. Forensics, to be precise, maybe forensic pathology, but I've got a very, very long time until I'll even be anywhere near considering what I want to specialize in. And who knows," she shrugged, "I could want to do something completely different by then."

"Oh." Gail thought over that for a moment. "That's acceptable."

"I'm glad to hear you think so," was Holly's dry response.

She paused. "Or maybe it isn't."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Here we go."

"Shut up. I just want to get one thing straight."

"Go ahead," she said, barely covering her amusement.

"You said you're interested in forensic pathology... somewhere down the line," Gail began.

"Yes."

"Years and years away from now," she continued. "Right?"

Holly nodded, brow furrowed slightly. "Yeah."

"So then your weird, irrelevant knowledge about graveyards is nothing to do with 'medical science'," Gail air quoted. "You lied."

Holly paused. "I may occasionally do some outside reading..." she muttered eventually, eyes cast down. "And I didn't lie. I just distorted the truth slightly."

"No, you lied," Gail said, eyes narrowed accusingly. "That was a lie, Holly. You were lying, you liar."

"You're kind of immature," Holly pointed out, still managing to look amused even as she frowned. "You know that, right? And I think I preferred it when you called me nerd."

"I don't care. You don't get to decide what I call you." Gail leaned back onto the bench, looking up at the sky. "I just can't believe the foundations of our friendship are built on deceit."

"We're friends now, are we?"

"Of course, Holly," Gail replied. "I don't almost propose to just _anyone, _you know."

"Well then," Holly said, breaking into a smile that Gail was quick to return, "I'm honored."

* * *

"Gerald," Gail cooed, scratching her hand against the rug to get the cat's attention. "Geraaaaald," she tried again. No luck. "Come here now, you ugly beast."

"Do I even want to know what you're doing?" said a voice.

Gail jolted up from where she was crouched on the floor to find her aunt staring back at her.

"I'm trying to get a picture," she explained, waving her phone in the air.

"A picture? Gail, darling, I have plenty. Why didn't you just... ask for one?"

Gail shook her head. "No," she said, exhaling a frustrated breath. "Not that sort of picture. I want a bad one. A really bad one."

"May I ask why?"

"For payback, obviously."

Carol seemed hesitant. "Should I be concerned for my cat's safety?" she asked.

"No."

"Good."

"Unless he doesn't cooperate."

"Gail."

She looked up at her aunt from where she was still crouched on the floor. "Fine," she said irritably. "No violence."

"That's better," Carol replied. She sat down on the sofa and began to flick through the TV channels.

Gail turned her attention back to Gerald. She was sure he was giving her a dirty look. She scowled back for good measure. And then, after checking that Carol's attention was still diverted, she provoked him with a sudden movement. He pulled a face just as she took the picture before springing away.

She looked at the picture she'd taken. Perfect. With few a clicks of button she'd put it in a text message and pressed send, before getting up from the floor and joining her aunt on the sofa.

Her phone buzzed a few minutes later. She unlocked it and opened the text.

_Holly: Do you send pictures of sloths with no context often?_

_Who says there's no context?_ she typed out, smiling as she hit sent. The response came quickly.

_Holly: Seeing as you didn't follow up that text with an explanation, I do._

_Gail: Wow._

_Holly: Wow, what?_

_Gail: It's a cat._

_Holly: Sorry, I'm not actually keeping up with this conversation._

_Gail: The picture. It's a cat, not a sloth._

_Holly: It's definitely a sloth._

Holly's decisive response made her laugh. She typed back, _No, it's just really fat, _and then put her phone down, turning her attention to the TV. It was one of those over-dramatic cooking programs that Carol loved so much.

"Any objections to me ordering in an Italian takeout tonight?" her aunt asked, eyes fixed on the pizza being cooked by one of the contestants.

Gail licked her lips, looking towards the TV. "None at all."

They sat with their eyes glued to the program, discussing what dish looked most appetizing — because food was a serious matter, after all. The conversation continued until Gail's phone buzzed a few minutes later. She was quick to click open the message.

_I'm not sure I believe you_, read Holly's text. Gail could almost picture her skeptical expression. She bit back her smile as she typed out her reply.

_Gail: He's called Gerald._

_Holly: Okay, now I know I don't believe you._

"Who's got you smiling so brightly?" Carol asked, nudging Gail's shoulder.

"Hmm?" Gail replied absently. She looked up. "Oh, no one," she said, locking her phone and shoving it in her pocket. "It's nothing."

"Well, I haven't seen you looking this happy since you got here. You must really like whoever it is on the end of that phone of yours."

Gail just shrugged in response, already deep in thought.

* * *

**Author's note: **Thank you for reading. Might go back and edit this tomorrow because it feels a bit... shabby. Haha. Anyway, hopefully chapter four should be up in the next week or so :)


	4. Chapter 4

"Isn't it about time you suggested me a book?"

"Mmm, probably," Holly agreed, chucking at Gail's impatient tone.

Today they were on shelving duty. Whether or not that was the official term, Gail had no idea. All she knew was that it involved a whole lot of putting books on shelves, which was just as thrilling as it sounded. Well, maybe that wasn't so true. Having Holly there did sort of make it marginally better. But only marginally. Because Holly annoyed Gail. Obviously.

"So?" Gail prompted, looking over at her expectantly.

"Well, it all depends on what kind of things interest you," Holly answered, placing a book on the shelf.

"What if I don't want to read about things that interest me?"

Holly paused what she was doing, turning to Gail with a sigh. "You're purposely being difficult, aren't you?"

"And why would I do that?" Gail asked.

"No idea." Holly smiled and then picked up the closest book to her. "How about this? _The Pencil: A History of Design and Circumstance_, by Henry Petroski," she read aloud, before turning the book over and reading the blurb. "Henry Petroski traces the origins of the pencil back to ancient Greece and Rome, writes factually and charmingly about its development over the centuries and around the world, and shows what the pencil can teach us about engineering and technology today."

Gail threw her a indignant look. "I'd appreciate it if you tried a bit harder, Holly. This is no joke, you know."

"Exactly, not a joke," Holly repeated, "which is why 'tracing the origins of the pencil' is so fitting. I don't think you can get much more serious than that, Gail."

"I hope you know that you're not funny."

Holly poked her in the ribs. "Then why are you smiling?"

Gail batted her hand away. "I'm smiling at Henry Petroski, nerd," she answered seriously. "Not everything is about you," she added, trying to hold back her smile. "So? Are you going to recommend me a book or not?"

"Magic word?" Holly prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"Now."

Holly prodded Gail again, this time a little harder.

"Hey! There's no need to resort to violence," Gail protested. "I get that you're jealous, what with Henry's charm and my..." She paused and then continued, "Well, I'm just hot. But really, me and him are over now. You can rest easy."

Gail chanced a glance over at Holly and sure enough, she was giving her _that_ look again. That curious, searching, half-smile of hers that never failed to hit Gail somewhere deep in her stomach. She hated it. And she really, really liked it.

"Thank you for putting me out of my misery," Holly finally responded in a humorless drawl. "The jealously was becoming unbearable."

But then she turned to Gail and cracked a smile ever-so-slightly and before they knew it they were both laughing like idiots, only stopping when Gail shoved the book out of view.

"I really do want you to recommend me a book, though," Gail continued, quiet and thoughtful, as Holly rubbed her stomach, still recovering from her burst of laughter.

"Okay," Holly said, slowly beginning to calm herself down. She nodded her head over to the crime section and suggested, "How about _The Big Sleep _by Raymond Chandler? Lots of sarcasm and murder... your sort of thing."

"No, not that one," Gail said, dismissive.

"Okay, what about," she looked over to her side before her eyes fell onto a book, "_Neverwhere_ by Neil Gaiman. It's all about... London and angels and-"

"Nah," Gail replied. "Not that either."

"You know," Holly finally said with a sigh, "it'd be useful for you to give me some hints here. Don't you have any idea what you want to read?"

Gail shrugged. Then she looked up at the balcony above them, with its bright books arranged like the colour spectrum, making it stand out like a rainbow. She pointed to it decisively, eyes narrowed. "I want one from there."

"You do?" Holly asked slowly, one eyebrow raised.

"What, are they forbidden or something?"

"No, no," Holly said, only looking mildly flustered. "It's just, well, that's the gay and lesbian section."

"So?" Gail didn't understand what point Holly was trying to make. "Wait, you're not like homophobic or something, are you?"

"No!" Holly responded again, this time blushing. "Um, pretty much the opposite of that, actually."

"What do — _oh_," Gail said, realising what Holly was trying to tell her. Then she paused, narrowing her eyes. "Wait, the opposite of homophobic isn't homosexual, Holly. Get it right." She caught Holly's eye and smiled wistfully. "And to think you call yourself a nerd."

"I don't call myself a nerd," Holly pointed out, "you do."

"Whatever." Gail waved her hand dismissively. "I want one from there."

Holly just laughed. "Later," she promised. "But for now we've got actual work to do," she reminded Gail, waving a book in her face.

"Fine," Gail huffed. "Later."

She caught Holly's eye just as she reached for the next stack of books and she couldn't ignore the strange sweeping sensation in her stomach.

* * *

Three weeks. That's how long it took her to completely settle into her job at the bookshop. And in even less time she'd picked her favourite time of day to be there: in the evening, when the sun was setting, casting a dim glow that spread through the window panes and across the floor of the shop, faintly illuminating the books, and when all the customers had left. That's when it was at its best, Gail thought.

This evening her and Holly were sat on the balcony together, their legs swinging from in between the wooden railings; the bookshop had closed an hour ago, but Holly's mother had made an exception, letting them stay for a little while longer.

"Something tells me you like it here," Holly said.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I could live here."

"You practically do," Holly retorted with a small smile.

Gail quickly became indignant. "Hey, don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, believe me, I wasn't," Holly said, popping a cheese puff into her mouth, before nudging Gail's shoulder. "I know exactly why you're here."

"Urgh." She narrowed her eyes. "Give me some of those," she said, making grabby hands towards Holly's bag of cheese puffs.

Holly held the bag away from her. "Why should I?"

"I don't know. Because I'm hot?"

"That's the fourth time you've complimented yourself today, Gail," Holly pointed out, amused. "Anyone would think you're, I don't know, self absorbed?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "Not true."

"A complete narcissist," she continued.

"Excuse me."

"Ridiculously over-confident."

"Okay, Holly. I get your point." Gail narrowed her eyes. "Wow, you're so _mean_."

"Us nerds have to build up some sort of defense, you know." Holly shrugged. "Self preservation on the playground and all."

Gail sighed. Then she looked at Holly's bag of cheese puffs and had a plan. The perfect plan. Abruptly, she looked down from the balcony towards the shop entrance, alarmed. "Oh, hey Ms Stewart."

"Mum?" Holly followed Gail's gaze, confused, to find that the shop was still empty. "Wait, she's not..." She felt something tugging at her hands. "Gail!"

"My oh my," Gail said, shaking her head wistfully. She had Holly's bag of cheese puffs in her hand. "That's the oldest trick in the book."

"Not fair," Holly grumbled.

"Life's not fair," Gail countered, popping a cheese puff into her mouth with unnecessary triumph. "I'm just setting you up for the future, Holly. I have your best interests at heart. You could at least be grateful."

"And you could just buy your own snacks. Anyone would think you didn't have a job."

Gail ignored her, instead lying back onto the balcony floor. "These are so good," she said, swallowing another mouthful.

"That's kind of dangerous," Holly pointed out.

"What?"

"Lying down while you eat."

"Oh right." She ate another cheese puff.

Holly sighed. "So you're just going to continue, huh?"

Gail pretended to consider that for a moment, before shoving some more cheese puffs into her mouth. "Yep."

"You're very frustrating sometimes," Holly said. The fondness in her voice didn't go unnoticed though. Instead she lay back and settled onto the balcony floor by Gail's side. "You know, researchers have found links between eating food whilst lying down and gastrointestinal disorder," she began.

Gail tried to hold back her smile. God, there was something weirdly endearing about the way Holly would suddenly go off on long-winded, science-y rants. For the most part Gail had learnt to tune out of the nerdy ramble, but she still couldn't help but smile at the way Holly's eyes lit up as she spoke, her hands moving in frantic gestures.

"...not to mention that our bodies are biologically designed to digest food in an upright position. And," Holly suddenly noticed Gail's expression and halted, "wait, what?" she asked, quiet and self conscious.

"I don't know." Gail was thoughtful for a moment, and then she blurted, "You're dumb and I like you."

"Thanks?" Holly replied, only sounding slightly suspicious.

"You're welcome," was Gail's easy response.

A moment passed before Holly added, "I like you too."

Gail held back a small smile. "Yeah, well, that goes without saying."

* * *

**Author's note: **Yeah, yeah, I know it's been nearly 2 months since my last update. Blame it on the stress of the English education system, or, you know, just me. Either away, I hope some of you are still [at least slightly] interested in this story. I'm sorry if this chapter seems disjointed or rushed or shabbily written or whatever - probably just a reflection of the state of my life. [Do tell me if any of the mistakes are, like, astronomical though.] Anyway, thank you for reading and reviews are the greatest [hint, hint]. Hopefully chapter five will be up before 2015, but I make no promises :P In the mean time, have a nice life and everything.


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